Does it sound weird to say “I love freedom?”
Readers of my blog know I have been struggling lately. It shows up when I run.
Running has long been my space to solve problems. Movement is like therapy for me, so, ironically, the very place I usually go for clarity and answers is now the problem.
I run down the road, feeling fine, when out of the blue, feelings of self-doubt and anxiety overwhelm me and I become weepy.
My poor running partner (and husband) is left to wonder what in the world is going on.
I thought I had put the issue to rest when I had good runs for six days in a row; no tears. Then last Sunday, a setback.
I thought it might be beneficial to try to determine the issue causing the problem, so I thought about it, and I think it’s freedom.
I’m missing it.
Oh, I’m not going to go all “Coronavirus restrictions protest” or anything remotely similar here [insert eye-roll].
But I do miss the freedom to invite my son and his family over for dinner, to have sleepovers with my grandchildren who live close by, to visit my grandson in Colorado and give him a hug, to have happy hour with my girlfriend, to go out for sushi with my hubby, to travel.
I mourn the freedom that the Coronavirus crisis has taken away from us.
When this is finally over, I will never take that freedom for granted again.
I just finished two books – one fiction and one non-fiction. I liked (but didn’t love) both books.
The fiction book, “Before We Were Yours“, was certainly a page-turner. It kept my interest, even if it was sort of formulaic. It was told from two points of view, one character narrating in modern times and one narrating in the 1930s.
The modern-day character is a lawyer and daughter of a senator. The 1930s character is a 12-year-old girl struggling to keep her siblings together after they are taken away from their parents. The two stories collide near the end of the book.
The non-fiction book, “Everybody Lies” describes the benefits of using what the author calls “Big Data” to study issues. Big Data, as it turns out, is mostly gleaned from our internet search history.
The title of the book refers to the fact that we don’t usually answer surveys truthfully. We give the answers we think we should give. Our Google searches tell the truth. It’s an interesting premise and the author tells plenty of stories to illustrate his point.
My husband and I were supposed to be in Colorado this week visiting our grandson. Of course, travel is out of the question right now, so we missed this opportunity.
It’s not the same as being there, of course, but I treasure the photos that my daughter-in-law sends to keep us updated on our little guy’s latest antics.
In the photo on the right, he is showing off the play dough he made from salt dough. In the photo on the left, he finally caught one of their chickens after a lot of pursuit. It looks like the chicken is having fun, doesn’t it?
I am looking forward to Saturday nights again.
We are Zooming with our friends for happy hour every week.
Anyone watching from the outside would find it hilarious.
There are ten of us in all, five couples. We are all, ahem, of a certain age, and we are all fairly new to Zoom. By the time all have our video and sound on, with gallery view so that we can see and hear each other, typically about 10 minutes of the hour has gone by.
There is a lot of good-natured laughing, often at others’ expense, some texting of much-needed help to especially frustrated participants, followed by the retrieving of reading glasses, but we always finally manage to relax and converse.
When the crisis is over and we are allowed to gather in person again, we have vowed to have a big shindig.
I am looking forward to that.
I am linking up with Heather Gerwing for her “Four Somethings”. Thanks, Heather, for giving the opportunity to think and write about four such compelling topics.
You can find the places I link up here.